[It's a little frightening, feeling someone else's emotions trembling inside your own heart. He doesn't know where his end and Alina's begin, because in this moment their separate hurts echo one another. It's the ache of wanting something, and being able to close your hands around it, but knowing you can never keep it.
Despite that ache, Nikolai can't help but sigh a smile at her petulant response. It is the farthest from how a queen ought to act, but in this moment that's part of why he loves her. Her unrefined honesty, her yearning for more choices than the narrow path placed before her. All of her unapologetic. It's because of those qualities that he could let go of all his masks around her.
(He doesn't think the word, love. He doesn't dare approach it, but he feels it anyway. That he has no control over.)]
Perhaps not. But it's the life I've chosen.
[With his thumb he traces over Alina's cheekbone. He thinks about what it will be like to return to that life when this interlude reaches its end. The Grand Palace will feel hollow after the coziness they've imbued their home with here. How long will it take him to stop expecting to see her when he looks up from his dinner? To stop reaching for her when he wakes up in the morning, alone in his bed? (Not alone for long, he reminds himself cheerlessly.) As he caresses her face, he doesn't know who he's trying to soothe, him or her.]
Today though...I am all yours.
[He can't promise her a lifetime, or any of the usual romantic little pledges that men lavish on women. But they have today, and tomorrow, and perhaps the next day.]
no subject
Despite that ache, Nikolai can't help but sigh a smile at her petulant response. It is the farthest from how a queen ought to act, but in this moment that's part of why he loves her. Her unrefined honesty, her yearning for more choices than the narrow path placed before her. All of her unapologetic. It's because of those qualities that he could let go of all his masks around her.
(He doesn't think the word, love. He doesn't dare approach it, but he feels it anyway. That he has no control over.)]
Perhaps not. But it's the life I've chosen.
[With his thumb he traces over Alina's cheekbone. He thinks about what it will be like to return to that life when this interlude reaches its end. The Grand Palace will feel hollow after the coziness they've imbued their home with here. How long will it take him to stop expecting to see her when he looks up from his dinner? To stop reaching for her when he wakes up in the morning, alone in his bed? (Not alone for long, he reminds himself cheerlessly.) As he caresses her face, he doesn't know who he's trying to soothe, him or her.]
Today though...I am all yours.
[He can't promise her a lifetime, or any of the usual romantic little pledges that men lavish on women. But they have today, and tomorrow, and perhaps the next day.]